


Lazy Afternoons

by MossadHuntinDog



Series: The Family's Soul [4]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 21:42:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1663469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MossadHuntinDog/pseuds/MossadHuntinDog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parenthood can be exhausting, so when time alone presented itself, it was up to them to take it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lazy Afternoons

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: NCIS, sadly, is not mine.

" _Daddy, don't!"_

High-pitched giggling filled the air as Timothy McGee scooped his four-year-old daughter up, tickling her in the process. "Don't what, huh? I thought you liked to be tickled?" The girl shook her head, her dark curls shaking. She had the dark brown curls of her birth father, and the green eyes of her birth mother, Tim's little sister Sarah. Since an unplanned pregnancy had thrown Sarah off balance, the college girl had given the baby up for adoption, requesting that her older brother and his wife- unable to have their own children- adopt the baby. From the moment the papers had been signed two months into Sarah's pregnancy, the baby girl she carried had been theirs, and Sarah had been fine with it, falling into the role of favorite aunt easier than she would have as mother.

No, that role was already taken.

_"Mommy! Mommy, make Daddy stop! No more tickles_!" Ziva slowly came into the living room, leaning against the far wall that led only slightly separated the kitchen from the living room, and crossed her arms, watching as Tim proceeded to continue tickling the child. When he finally stopped, he settled the girl better on his hip, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I love you, Daddy." Tim chuckled softly, pressing another kiss to her soft skin. He mouthed it softly back at her, and she did the same, eventually laying her head on his shoulder.

Ziva watched her husband and daughter, a hand moving down to rest over her womb. A hysterectomy two years prior had permanently robbed the former Israeli assassin of a dream that had been crushed long before her daughter had even been thought of. Getting caught in a bombing in Ireland while she and her husband pursued a suspect they needed to take back to America, had destroyed any hope of carrying children of her own; a death Ziva had heartbreakingly accepted without ever imagining that motherhood would be in the cards for her. And then Sarah had gotten pregnant from a one-night stand over spring break, and wanted Ziva and Tim to adopt the baby; and still, even four years later, she sometimes found it hard to believe.

A knock at the door brought Ziva from her thoughts, and she went to the door, gently swatting Jethro's nose as he yipped and then returned his head to his pillow. The only person who warranted that response from the dog was Gibbs. Usually, the animal scurried upstairs when he realized it was Gibbs at the door, but today, he stayed downstairs, because Tim had set Elizabeth down and she'd rushed over to the animal, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his fur. She loved the aging German Shepard, and the dog looked on her as one of his to protect; she _was_ his master and mistress's pup, after all, even if she came from another litter.

"Gibbs? What are you doing here?" Ziva turned to Tim, who joined her at the door. The sight of their boss at their doorstep wasn't unusual, the former Marine often came over to babysit, but he usually brought Abby and Tony, and today, it was just him.

"Was in the neighborhood." His agents shared a glance. They knew very well that 'in the neighborhood' was just code for Gibbs wanting to visit with his adoptive granddaughter. "Figured I'd take Lilibet fishing." Ziva raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest as Tim leaned against the door frame, not believing a word.

" _Fishing_?" Ziva asked.

"There's a lake at the park, but there are no fish worth catching in it." Tim replied, twisting his wedding rim, seeing right through his boss's reasoning. Gibbs just raised an eyebrow at his youngest 'son.' After a moment, Ziva broke up the staring contest, pushing the door open further.

"If you wanted to take Elizabeth down to the basement to teach her how to make a boat, all you had to do was ask." Ziva turned, to see her daughter laying beside Jethro, head resting on his side. "Rivka?" The child looked up; only her mother used the Hebrew form of her middle name for her. "You want to go with Gibbs and help him work on his boat down in the basement?" The girl lit up, climbing to her feet and rushing towards her parents. She let out a squeal, rushing to Gibbs, who caught her when she threw herself into his arms.

Once the two were gone, Elizabeth telling Gibbs about the tomatoes she and Ziva had planted in the backyard, Ziva softly shut the door. Tim had gone into the kitchen, and she raised an eyebrow at the sight of the wine glass he slid towards her. "What is this? Gibbs takes our daughter our for an afternoon of boat-building, and you decide that it would be a good time to get me drunk and have your way with me?" She joked softly. He took a sip of his wine, going to his wife and gently squeezing her waist.

"I'll meet you out back." Then, with a quick kiss to her lips, he whistled to Jethro and headed out back, leaving the French doors open. The dog followed, eventually curling up under the swing on the porch. Ziva chuckled and sipped her wine, realizing what he was doing, before she grabbed the tray of fresh-cut fruit and followed. It was days like this, when the weather was nice and either Gibbs or Sarah or Ducky or one of the others on the team had taken Elizabeth out for some quality time that Tim and Ziva spent some time of their own together. In the winter, they would curl up in front of the fireplace and roast marshmallows and make s'mores, in the fall, they'd spend time in the kitchen, baking together or cooking, and in the spring and summer, it was outside, on the back porch, in the swing on the porch or the small outdoor sofa, sharing a glass of wine and enjoying the quiet.

She found him sitting on the sofa on the porch, a book open on his lap, his glass of wine sitting on the small table beside him. She set the plate on the table, along with her glass of wine, and slipped her feet out of her shoes, pulling them up beneath her. "What are you reading now?" He lifted the cover, and she couldn't hide the smile. " _Midnight's Children_?" She asked, meeting his eyes.

"I like Rushdie. I think he's brilliant." Ziva nodded, silent.

"So do I, but do you know who I think is even more brilliant?" She asked, taking the book and slipping the bookmark into it before setting it on the table. She moved closer, climbing into his lap and taking his face in her hands. "You." She grinned, laughing softly before she caught his lips in hers. Slowly, her arms went around his neck, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close. When they slowly broke the kiss, he nudged his nose against hers, grinning.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are today?" She grinned in response, shaking her head.

"No. You didn't get a chance to this morning because Rivka woke us up." She replied, thinking of when they'd awoken to the feel of their daughter bouncing on the bed. The child had gotten up early and dashed into their room, announcing that it was spring, and that they needed to plant the tomatoes they'd bought the day before otherwise they wouldn't be able to have tomatoes on their sandwiches. It could have been a worse way to wake up, Ziva had mused, but then Tim had grabbed their daughter pulling her into the blankets with a squeal. The little girl had giggled, enjoying being between her parents' loving arms, and as Ziva had settled down beside her daughter, the little girl had turned to her, pressing a kiss to her mother's cheek. No, it definitely hadn't been a bad way to wake up.

"Well, I'm telling you now." He whispered, brushing the backs of his fingers against her cheek as she settled on his lap, her legs stretched out on the other side of him. "You are absolutely beautiful, and I am the luckiest man in the world." She smiled softly at him, gaze flicking to his lips, before she reached out, plucking his wine glass from the table instead of hers.

"You do not mind my germs, do you, Timothy?" She asked, taking a sip. He chuckled.

"I've never had a problem with your germs, Ziva, why?" She giggled, meeting his gaze as she took another sip of the ruby wine and then curled her hand against her chest, the glass held protectively in her hand.

"Because I love sharing them with you." She giggled, capturing his lips in a deep kiss. He reached down, removing the wine glass and setting it back on the table, before gently moving her back towards the arm of the small sofa. She allowed him to lay her back, enjoying the comforting weight of him atop her, and as she ran a hand through his hair, one foot slowly roamed up and down the back of his leg, lazily tracing patterns. She giggled as he slipped one hand beneath her shirt, brushing his fingers over her naval and up towards her breasts.

Absentmindedly, she reached out, feeling for her glass of wine, only to grasp it and lose her fingering. The glass shattered on the wooden porch, a river of red spilling over the porch. Tim pulled away, glancing over the edge. Ziva sighed, fingers working on the buttons of her husband's shirt. He kissed her quickly. "Stay right there." And then he was up, slipping into the kitchen and grabbing the broom and dustpan. In minutes, the broken glass was picked up and the wine cleaned off the wood, and he'd returned to her side. Ziva sat up, her feet in his lap. Over kisses, he gently massaged her feet, his long, slender fingers working over the delicate tendons and small bones of her ankles, and the soft, delicate purple veins only faintly visible underneath her tanned skin. Just as things began to return to hot and heavy, the phone rang. "We're never going to get a day to ourselves, are we?" He asked, kissing her once more before getting up. Ziva chuckled, before getting up and following. She stopped in the kitchen as he ended the call.

"Who was that, baby?" She slid a hand along his waist, leaning against his back. He turned, catching he around the waist and staring into her eyes.

"Ducky. He's having a dinner party tonight, and wanted to know if we wanted to come. The rest of the team is gonna be there. I told him yes." She lay her head on his chest.

"Good."

When Gibbs dropped Elizabeth off at home two hours later, the little girl excitedly showed them the two boats Gibbs had helped her make. The small models were beautifully varnished, and on the back of each were two names, tenderly painted in Gibbs''s hand- _Elizabeth_ and _Rivka_. "They're beautiful, sweetheart." Tim whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Tell Gibbs thank you."

As the child rushed after the Team Leader, Ziva took the small models and set them on the mantle, over the fireplace, beside the photographs of the two women their daughter was named for- Rivka David and Elizabeth McGee. As she stepped back, Tim wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her head. "It's absolutely perfect."


End file.
